


Alone Together

by underearth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta Read, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Remus is angsty and brooding!, like a lot of pining, no war because I SAID SO, the bittersweetness of happy moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21691813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underearth/pseuds/underearth
Summary: “I’m not ready for it to all go away.” He stares resolutely out of the window, not looking at Sirius.It's one of those nights.(Not very angsty, just a little friendship/pre-slash thingy. idk!)
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Alone Together

Remus Lupin is sulking.

He’s trying very hard to pretend that he’s not, but there aren’t many words for sitting by the window in Gryffindor common room in the middle of the night, staring pensively out onto the grounds.

Brooding, perhaps, like a vampire in some cheap romance novel. Moping could work too, but neither of those words fit the atmosphere and overall… _aesthetic_ of the scenario.

The moon is thin and waning, pouring only the smallest bit of light onto the window seat, and a low glow is emitting from the nearly dead fireplace. Remus is bundled in a large, overly fluffy blanket, knees drawn up to his chest. His head and back rest against the cool wall, stones pressing coldness through his pyjamas. His face is tilted towards the window, view only slightly murky behind the thick panes of glass.

So yeah, he’s sulking.

He had tried to go to sleep, he really did, but his brain apparently decided that 11 pm is the perfect time to review the highlights reel, hereby dubbed, “Moments of Pain and Suffering in the Life of Remus Lupin That Make Him Ponder the Inevitability of Dying Alone”, not to be confused with the thrilling and no less painful prequal, “Moments of Pain and Suffering in the Life of Remus Lupin That Send Him into a Deep Depressive Spiral”.

Tonight, on the highlights reel: Sirius flirting shamelessly with Elektra Matthews. (Remus isn’t sure what motivated their parents to call Elektra _Elektra_ , but his name is practically Wolfy McWolf, the Werewolf, so he really can’t judge. He does, however, judge the universe for having a sick sense of humour.) Elektra is insanely attractive, of course. Remus had watched on in what might’ve appeared to a casual observer as vague disinterest (but was actually intent interest with an unhealthy amount of jealously) as Elektra had flicked their shoulder-length, almost _sparkling_ blond hair and leant forward in their seat to touch Sirius’ arm as they laughed.

In that moment, Remus had felt the primal, animalistic possessiveness of the wolf boil up inside him, and had also never been more disgusted with himself in his life.

Sirius wasn’t – isn’t – his to be jealous over. Barring any divine interference, he never will be. Remus has no right to be upset if Sirius wants to flirt with others.

So, long story short: he’s not only sulking, he’s _pining_.

And oh, how he pines. Remus spends so much of his day pining you could throw a squirrel at him and call him a forest (James’ words, not Remus’).

It’s almost revolting, honestly. Remus can’t go three minutes without thinking about Sirius. From what had started as an innocent little crush in second year had snowballed into a serious infatuation in fourth year, and now, in sixth, it was safe to say that Remus Lupin was properly, deeply, head-over-heels in gooey I-want-to-write-you-poems _love_ with Sirius Black.

Right from the start, little twelve-year old Remus knew it was hopeless. Sirius is _Sirius,_ beautiful, funny, talented, smart, really fucking fit Sirius, and Remus is Remus. A werewolf, a prefect, a bookworm, and very much _not_ the type that Sirius goes for.

But just because Remus has accepted his fate it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. It hurts, it hurts all the damn time and Remus feels sick to the stomach with it. Besides, Sirius was his best friend before he was his first love, and Remus would rather pine away for the rest of his life than lose his friendship.

Remus had tried desperately to find someone else to fixate on, but that’s the thing about Sirius Black: he’s unforgettable. Remus sees his eyes in the storm clouds that gather over the Astronomy tower, he sees his hair in the wings of McGonagall’s pet raven, he hears him in the French the Dupont twins bicker in and in the haunting piano music that plays on the seventh floor at night. Sirius is everywhere, and not just metaphorically.

He shares a _room_ with him, for Godrick’s sake, how is he supposed to move on?

He sighs and stretches his now stiff legs across the window seat. He’s not sure how long he’s been here, but he’s not even a little tired yet. He suspects he’ll end up staying awake the whole night and sleeping for the whole morning, but it’s the weekend, he’s allowed to.

There’s a creak at the stairs, and Remus whips his head up to see Sirius, standing in the middle of the staircase, bleary-eyed and yawning. His traitorous heart beats a little faster.

“Rem? What are you doing up?” Sirius asks as he makes his way over. Remus stares at him, still fuzzy with sleep and looking so soft. It makes him want to reach out, pull him close, and never let him go again.

He imagines beating back those thoughts with a baseball bat, and it only helps a little.

Sirius frowns down at him, and Remus realises he still hasn’t said anything.

“Couldn’t sleep, is all. Go back to bed.” Sirius’ face softens in understanding, and he pats Remus’ leg to get him to move them, setting himself up on the other side of the seat once there’s room.

“Nightmares?” Remus shakes his head.

“Nah, just thinking.”

“Dangerous thing to do, Moony-pie.” Sirius stretches his legs, pressing his feet to Remus’ thigh. Remus laughs a little.

“At least _I_ actually think.” Sirius digs his toes into Remus in response, forcing a (mortifying) giggle out of him, and sparking a few minutes of gentle play-fighting between them.

“What were you thinking about?” Sirius asks when they settle down again. He looks a little more awake now, but still soft and calm in a way he never is during the day. The moonlight makes his hair look like ink, several strands that have fallen out of his messed-up bun during his sleep flowing around his face.

“Just…” _You. Always you._ “Everything, I guess.”

Sirius cocks his head to the side in a way that reminds Remus of Padfoot. “That’s specific.”

Remus huffs a laugh. “It’s our second-last year. I think I’m getting a little nostalgic already.”

“Moony, you can’t seriously be fretting about leaving right now. We’ve only been here a _month_.” Sirius laughs. Remus gently slaps his leg.

“Shut up, Pads.”

“What’s up?” Sirius asks, in a softer, more serious voice. Remus lets the smile slip from his face and swallows.

“I’m not ready for it to all go away.” He stares resolutely out of the window, not looking at Sirius.

He wasn’t really thinking about that, obviously, but thinking about what’s going to happen after school _is_ something that’s been worrying him lately. He _also_ wasn’t planning on actually telling Sirius that, but he tells Sirius (almost) everything. Just being around him makes him want to spill all the secrets of his soul, to lay himself completely bare and let Sirius decide what to do with it.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll graduate, and go to university, or get jobs, then you guys will probably get married, have kids, live your lives, and it’s just a little _scary_. It’s all going so quickly. Before I know it, I’ll be old, looking back on these years and missing them.” He feels his throat tightening up a little. Still not looking at Sirius, he smiles weakly. “It sounds kind of dumb to say, but I feel like I’m missing it already.”

He’s met with silence, then hears Sirius shifting around. He almost startles when he comes closer, but just wiggles to the side to give him room. Sirius settles in between him and the window, taking up the space Remus was staring at before. They’re pressed against each other almost completely, and Sirius pushes Remus’ legs back down and slings his own over them, so that his back is against the window and his knees are hooked over Remus’ thighs.

“S’not dumb, Rem.” Sirius says quietly. “I get it. It’s bittersweet, you know? When you’re living a moment and you know that one day, you’ll think about it again and want to be back there. It makes you want to hold on to it, to stay in it for the rest of your life, but if we _could_ do that, it’d be less special. The fact that we only get to do this once means that we should savour every moment. And yeah, it’ll kind of suck when it’s all over, and we have to be adults and live in the real world, but we’ll still have all these memories, _plus_ , we get to make loads of new ones.

“Picture it now, Moony-kins. We’re 18, graduated, and the four of us move into a nice apartment in London. We go to university together, stay up way too late studying for exams, get piss-drunk and play music way too loud. We get take-away almost every night because none of us know how to cook, until either James or Peter’s mum cracks and comes over to teach us.

We’re 24, going to clubs and getting way too sloshed, so me and you have to beg Peter to get us some hangover potions. James, the lucky, hangover-proof bastard, makes fun of us.

We’re 30, each of us married to the love of our lives, and we’re hanging out in one of our backyards, having beer and barbequing. If any of us have kids, they’re playing like their cousins. James almost torches off his eyebrows again, because by then we’ve forgotten what happened in Potions last week, but it makes us remember, and we laugh at him while he sulks.

We’re 50 and going on a holiday all together to the beach. Me, you, and Peter get horribly sunburnt while James smugly shows off his tan.”

Remus laughs, and pretends he isn’t tearing up a little.

“I could go on forever, but the _point_ is that yeah, you’ll miss this, but you won’t be alone. We can miss this together.” Sirius finally leans back, a little out of breath from his monologue.

“That sounds nice.” Remus says, a little too quiet to sound comforted.

“But?”

“But.” He sighs. “But you don’t _know_ that we’ll be together, you _can’t_ know. What if…” _You all move on without me,_ he doesn’t say, but he knows Sirius hears it anyway, because Sirius knows him, cover-to-cover, inside and out. He studies the wall opposite him, again avoiding Sirius’ heavy gaze.

“Look at me, Moons.” When he doesn’t, a gentle hand guides his face. The expression on Sirius’ face is a rare one, completely solemn and without a trace of mischief. They’re a lot closer than before, only inches apart, and Remus isn’t entirely certain of who moved closer.

“I know, because we aren’t just friends. We’re _family._ All of us. James, Peter, you, and me. We’ve been together through it all. We’ve grown up together. Of course, we’ll make new friends, meet new people, but we’re always going to be there for each other. That’s the Marauder way.” His hand is still on Remus’ cheek, and it’s getting a little hard for Remus to focus.

“Thanks, Sirius.” He whispers. Sirius smiles back, and lets his hand drop onto his lap. They keep looking at each other, letting the comfortable silence sit. Remus can’t help but think about how easy it would be to lean over and kiss him.

This is it, he thinks. This is one of those bittersweet moments. One day, when his hands are wrinkly and his hair has gone grey, he’ll look back on this, when they were young, bright, and had so much _time_ in front of them.

He’ll look back, and he’ll regret not saying anything to the boy he loved, he’ll regret letting this moment slip through his fingers like sand.

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go back to bed.”

Remus Lupin always knew he’d die full of regrets.

(He does look back on this, when his hands are wrinkly and his hair has gone grey, but he _doesn't_ regret it.

He doesn't, because when he looks at his left hand, a simple band shines back at him, snuggled right where it has been since he was 26, and right where it will be until the day he dies.

He doesn't regret anything.) 

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting on my laptop for literally months, and I'm not sure if it'll fit into the fic I'm working on right now, so here ya go. If anyone here is currently waiting for me to post the second chapter of my other fic, I promise, it's coming, I'm having an absolutely hectic month, with exams and assignments and the such, but in a week it's over and I have a long ass break where I plan to write quite a bit. 
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you liked this :)


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